Replaced? No, I Moved On

A few days later, I saw Barry again—this time at our graduation party.

From the doorway of a private room, I watched as he held Lyla close, his eyes full of affection.

His friends circled them, throwing out compliments. Perfect couple. Meant to be.

Barry's smile deepened.

After a while, Lyla got up to freshen up.

I turned away fast, blending into the crowd like I was just passing by.

Inside the room, after she left, someone hesitated.

"Lyla's back... What about Amelia? She loves you. Aren't you two about to get married?"

Barry smirked. "Love? She was just a stand-in. Haven't you noticed how much Amelia looks like Lyla? Now that Lyla's back, my fiancée should change too."

A cold chill crawled down my spine. My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. The sharp sting kept me grounded.

Laughter rippled through the room. Then another voice chimed in.

"Amelia's coming too, isn't she? Barry, you've got it good—both in your hands. But aren't you worried she'll see another chick and freak out?"

Barry chuckled, swearing under his breath. "Another chick? Lyla's my fiancée. Show some respect.

"Amelia won't make a fuss. She loves me. For three years, she's put me first in everything. Ten days ago, a university abroad sent her an acceptance letter, but she gave it up for me.

"She wanted me to go with her. I was planning to—since it would've put me closer to Lyla. But then Lyla came back to Claustria... for me."

Barry's handsome face dimmed slightly.

My heart? Already numb.

Suddenly, I remembered. Ten days ago—Barry's furious accusations. How he snapped that I never considered him, never talked things through.

Didn't matter how much I explained. That my family arranged it. That I had no say. He wouldn't listen. Just turned and left, leaving me alone on that empty street.

Turns out, it was all an excuse.

He had known everything.

And I was the idiot who actually believed he was upset. That I had done something wrong. I even dragged myself out, sick, just to see him.

Now, surrounded by his friends, he looked softer, more tender than I'd ever seen him. And it was all for her.

Barry took a slow drag from his cigarette. "This time, I'm not letting Lyla go again.

"One of you call Amelia. Tell her not to come. Just say I'm busy—she'll go home and make soup for me. She cares. She'll listen.

"And don't mention Amelia around Lyla. I don't want her to misunderstand."